


I love you, sincerely, yours truly, yours truly

by Recurring



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguity, Androids, Canon-Typical Violence, Distant future, Divine Pulse Gone Wrong (Fire Emblem), F/M, Sci-Fi Elements, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, based on the song Yours Truly (2095) by E.L.O., i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recurring/pseuds/Recurring
Summary: After a Divine Pulse goes wrong, Sylvain ends up nine centuries in the future. There, he meets a woman who looks a lot like someone he loves.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	I love you, sincerely, yours truly, yours truly

Sylvain was always dying for his friends.

He threw himself in front of arrows, in front of axes, in between his allies and huge pillars of hellfire.Sometimes he died quickly, right in front of them.Sometimes he bled out slowly, and it wasn't until the battle ended that Byleth found his corpse and turned back the hands of time to figure out what had gone wrong, and when.

Sometimes the hardest part of fighting was trying to figure out how to keep it from happening.

It was their toughest battle yet.Byleth's attention was divided as usual between their allies and their opponents, calculating and predicting.This time, though, there was something like fear inside them, the thrill that this was a deciding battle.They needed to keep everyone alive.They had all fought so hard to reach this point.

Byleth swung the Sword of the Creator, whipping it across the battlefield and felling a mage that in the time before had struck down Ingrid.She stood, now, unharmed, only realizing the danger she'd been in when she turned around and saw the mage collapse.

All was going to plan.The weary soldiers advanced, desperate for the war to end.Byleth commanded Lorenz to strike out west.They gestured for their battalion to follow, and clung to the thrum of power in their veins, trusting it, knowing that with care they could get everyone out of this alive.

Byleth's focus was unparalleled.They cut a path onward.Their father's mercenaries and Ingrid followed behind, ready to face the demonic beast that crashed around a heap of rubble.Byleth ran forwards, drawing back their blade to strike.

Several things happened at once to shatter their focus.

The demonic beast in front of them unleashed a furious attack that crashed through Byleth's battalion, making their hair sizzle and their ear pop.Behind them, another demonic beast leapt over the wall, tail clipping it and sending a shower of bricks crashing down.The beast landed and roared, inhaling, gathering fire deep in its throat.

Ingrid screamed.

Byleth glanced back, already slowing time as they watched Sylvain leap from nowhere in between Ingrid and the demonic beast.

Byleth's grip on their powers was loosened, careless, as they reached for him and Divine Pulse.

***

Sylvain feels fire engulf him.He falls from his horse, hears Ingrid screaming.He feels her hands on his cheek and it hurts.But she's alive, and she's crying, and that's ridiculous, because she's alive.What does she have to be upset about?

Sylvain stands in front of the demonic beast and watches the fire erupting from the monster's jaws.Heat flares across his face.

Sylvain mounts his warhorse, anxious about the upcoming battle, assuring himself that he will die before he lets any harm befall the others. 

Sylvain takes an arrow to the chest and in the pain that follows, thinks that his life was worth living, after all. 

Sylvain watches an axe angled at his face. 

Sylvain faces down a demonic beast. 

Sylvain links his hands behind his neck and winks at the new professor.

_Too far_ , the professor says, face blank and emotionless.

Sylvain hears rumbling on the other side of the wall and already kicks his horse into motion.The demonic beast that leaps from behind it has its sights set on Ingrid.

Sylvain can't understand how he never realized how beautiful Ingrid is.

Sylvain sees a woman that looks a lot like Archbishop Rhea on a muddy field, standing opposite a scarred man wielding the Sword of the Creator.

_I am the beginning._

Sylvain watches Byleth placing a crown on Dimitri's brow.

Sylvain feels fire engulf him and falls from his horse.He hears Ingrid scream.

***

Sylvain wakes up beneath smooth, shining structures.The moonlight gleams on their windows, and they glow with hot signs in a language that should be unfamiliar but Sylvain somehow understands.

He gets up, wearing clothes that aren't his yet that he has owned for his entire life.His vision pulses and his head rings.He must have taken something to make him feel this way.

Few people are up and about at this time, in this strange city.Sylvain stands where he is, looking around, looking for the professor, for Felix, for Ingrid.There's no sign of them, and no sign of the battle that he only somewhat remembers.Sylvain watches two lights appear in the distance.They approach quickly, then careen out of sight.He knows it's just a hovercar, but he is shocked by it, startled into tremors by the strangeness of it.He's never seen anything like it before.He thinks he might throw up.

***

It's easier to adjust than Sylvain had expected.He's not sure if he's even the Sylvain he used to be, or if he's just a passenger in someone else's life.He knows where to go, to discover that the battle he last remembered was just an anecdote in history, barely recalled.There's no clear answer on whether or not they even came out victorious without him.Or was there still a version of him, back there?He looks around at curved screens that predict the weather and try to sell a thousand different things and learns that the year is 2095, that this is a new city built on the site of that final battle, 910 years into the future.It should break him, but Sylvain only feels resigned.

He doesn't know how he came to be here, or perhaps _now_.'Now' no one cares at all that he has a Crest, that he used to be the heir to House Gautier.No one wants him for status or for his blood.It almost feels like a relief, but while the pain of having a Crest has gone away, the loneliness hasn't.

Sylvain exists in his new life, alone, uncertain.The days pass and he grows accustomed to all that is new, all that has changed.He passes by strangers, greets some.He could reach out, he thinks.He doesn't have to be alone.

But how could he explain to them where he came from?How could he describe his nightmares, the need to protect his friends that still clings to him?He thinks he might be able to understand Dimitri better, now.There is no way to ask for help, there is no one that shares his pain.Sylvain has always been alone, but now it is all that he has, and is.

Until he sees a familiar profile in the crowd. 

It's impossible, more than he could ever have wished for.Sylvain's heart flutters and he runs after her, and she turns when he calls her.

"Ingrid?Ingrid!Ingrid, can it really be you?"

Slowly, she faces him.There can be no mistaking it--it's Ingrid, wearing a bright jumpsuit that he's realized is fashionable for this time.Her complexion looks healthier than it ever did in the war, her hair is clean and bright and so familiar and Sylvain wants to wrap his arms around her and smooth his fingers across her back.

"Is that what you want?" Ingrid says, carefully, watching him with blank eyes. 

Sylvain stops.Ingrid stares at him, calmly.There's no recognition in her face, no expression at all.She waits for him to answer her.

He swallows.There's nothing that he wants more, than for this to be Ingrid.For her to know him.To not be alone."Y-yes," he says.

Ingrid nods."It really is me."

Sylvain's mouth is dry.Her voice is just as he remembers, but this can't be her.This stranger is lying to him, but he can't see why.He doesn't even care.

Ingrid begins walking again, and Sylvain falls into step with her, as easily as if they were back in the halls of Garreg Mach.She doesn't seem to mind.

She doesn't ask his name and Sylvain pretends it's because this is Ingrid, and she knows him already.He follows her through the busy streets, unable to tear his eyes away from her.She leads him to a vast building that disappears up into the clouds, stops in front of it and turns around to face him with those eerie eyes.

Sylvain fidgets."Is this where you live now?"

Ingrid nods slowly.

Craning his head up, Sylvain tries to imagine how long it would take to build something like this.He marvels at how it's just one of many.He thinks of all the people living inside of it, he thinks of the lights at night and the food that doesn't quite seem to be food at all.

"Can I come in?" he asks, voice cracking.Ingrid is here in front of him but he still feels so, so lonely.

"Is that what you want?" Ingrid asks.

"Yeah," Sylvain says.

He follows her inside.

Ingrid's apartment is high up above the city, near the top of the building.Looking out the window, Sylvain imagines that she must like this view.It must remind her of flying on the back of a pegasus--this peaceful city must be a welcome sight after the war.He knows it is, for him.

He misses her, and the others. 

Ingrid offers him a drink, but Sylvain isn't thirsty.He sits down in a clean white chair, across from her, and watches her face.

"Ingrid," he says, "I'm so glad that I found you."

She doesn't return the sentiment, doesn't say anything at all.She doesn't demand to know what he's been doing with his time now--whether there is a trail of broken hearts for her to clean up after him.She doesn't acknowledge the clumsy way he'd tried to tell her he cared about her, the last night before the battle.

Sylvain leans forward, insistent."I missed you--" maybe it's stupid to say this, when Ingrid has said nothing to indicate that she remembers him, too.But it all comes out, anyway.He tells her about how he's gotten used to the city, and how alone he's been without her or the others, and that he doesn't know how this all came to pass."The last thing I remember is you being about to die, and I--I couldn't let that happen.Ingrid I'm just so glad to see you."

He reaches out to put his hand on hers, resting in her lap.

Her skin is ice cold.

"You can stay the night, if that's what you want," Ingrid says.

Sylvain releases her, slowly leans back into his own chair.He looks away from her, inhaling.This is not Ingrid, he reminds himself.Nothing good can from from pretending.

"I'd like that," Sylvain says.

Sylvain stays the night, in Ingrid's small guest room.He doesn't know if she sleeps, or if she even needs to.Not all of the people in this time are alive. 

The next morning he steps out of his room, to overhear Ingrid speaking with someone.He waits until she is finished, not understanding most of what she is saying but not hearing any mention of himself.When he leaves the hallway and sees her, she is completely alone.

"Morning," Sylvain says.

Ingrid looks exactly as she did the night before.She faces him, blank."Good morning," she replies."Can I call some transportation for you?"

She puts her finger to her temple as she says this.Sylvain shakes his head.

"If you are in need of anything, I am able to find resources for you.Is that what you want?"

"No, thank you," Sylvain says.

"You may stay here as long as you need to," Ingrid tells him.

Sylvain looks down at his hands."Thank you.That's very kind."Maybe he can get to know this Ingrid. 

"It is the nice thing to do," Ingrid replies.

Sylvain stays with Ingrid for the rest of the day, and the day following that.Though she is, indeed, very nice, she seems cold.Sylvain wars between the certainty that it is not Ingrid, and the hope that it could be.When he lets himself hope, he tries to rationalize how the battle might have changed her, and how he, too, has been affected by this new time.

This Ingrid is brilliant.Sylvain asks her about this world, the technology and the history, and she answers him quickly.She explains when and how electricity was harnessed, how ancient ruins found beneath the ground held the secrets to make weapons as well as metal creatures.That had been improved upon and streamlined until now there were people made of wire and steel.

The days go by, and Ingrid's home is always open to him, even when he needs to be truly alone for a time.He walks through a busy shopping district near where he met this Ingrid, seeing a storefront with people standing in the windows.

They aren't people, though.As display models, these have different body parts made with transparent plastics, revealing the network of wire and microchips beneath the skin.Though their hairstyles differ, all of them have Ingrid's face.

Sylvain presses his palm to the glass.Where is the Ingrid he knew?Does she miss him, too?If she is in the past, is she dead?But if Sylvain can arrive in the future, then can't he go back, somehow?Can't she come to him--for real, not just in the form of his hostess?

He returns to her home--which is now becoming his.She's out at the moment, but Sylvain is welcome to come and go as needed. 

He's becoming familiar with this place.He finds paper, and a pen, and sits down.There's no point to this, but Sylvain is crushed by loneliness.He writes.

_Dear Ingrid_. 

_Maybe this message can find you in another time_.

The days unwind and Sylvain can't see any way to get back.This Ingrid may have immeasurable knowledge, but she doesn't know how to help him.She doesn't know how he got here.

_I don't know where you are, but I miss you so much_. _I met someone who looks a lot like you, but--_

He doesn't know how he would explain to the real Ingrid--or even himself--what this Ingrid is.He is in awe of her, how true to life she is.It's hard to imagine that whoever made her had never met the real Ingrid--but that woman was over nine centuries in the past. 

This Ingrid is very nice, but Sylvain understands that is just how she is programmed.

"I'm lonely," he admits.

"I am here, too," Ingrid tells him.

"Thanks," he says.Does she understand loneliness?Is that why she lets him stay?

"I like you very much," Ingrid says.

One night, amidst her meaningless assurances, Sylvain curls up against her, hoping for warmth, for comfort.

"Is that what you want?" Ingrid asks him.He looks up at her.Her hand is on his hair, but there's no life to the gesture. 

He sits up, turning away from her."No," he says.

_I realize that this sounds strange, but somehow time has rearranged.I don't know how to get back to you._

This Ingrid finds his unfinished letter.She knows all about the real Ingrid, but Sylvain still worries that he has hurt this one.She's been nothing but hospitable, though he supposes that there is little to her to impose upon.Guilt eats at him, though.

"You think of her often," Ingrid says."Is that what you want?"

It's a phrase that Sylvain is growing sick of.Proof that she was built to please, not to be.The Ingrid he knew would have snapped at him to stop moping, she would have told him to get back on his feet, she would have called this a mess that she couldn't just clean up on her own, he needed to do his part, too.

"Yes," Sylvain says, "but you can't do anything."

_Ingrid, I never said this to you, but I'm sorry for how I behaved, and I'm sorry for letting you clean up after me, and I wish I was back with you._

Sylvain leaves this Ingrid's apartment, with just his letter.Maybe someday he'll come back, to feel those cold arms around him.Maybe someday he'll be desperate enough to kiss her, to look for comfort in that familiar question.

"Is that what you want?"

Sylvain walks away from this Ingrid, finishing his letter in his head.

_I love you_

_Sincerely,_

_Yours truly_

_Yours truly_

**Author's Note:**

> E.L.O. really went "what if you got sent to the future and met a woman who looked just like your lover but was actually an IBM would that be f*cked up or what? Anyway I'm Jeff Lynne."
> 
> i love to procrastinate writing one thing by writing something else


End file.
